


Violent Thing

by 230W49thSt



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Almost forgot that one lmao, Angst, Body Dysphoria, Dealing with their past, Falling In Love, Fluff, Former Griffin Killer Shiro, Getting Together, Griffin Lance, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loner Shiro living in a cabin in the woods, M/M, Mentioned Mobbing Including Violence, Minor Allura/Keith (Voltron), Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nightmares, Self-Hatred, Shapeshifting, Sharing a Bed, but they exist natural in this world, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/230W49thSt/pseuds/230W49thSt
Summary: When Shiro decides to take care of a hurt griffin, his quiet life as a loner in the northern forest gets turned upside down. Haunted by his dark and violent past that is connected to the beautiful animals' near extinction, he tries to make up for his mistakes.What he doesn't expect it that the griffin has another side to it, a side that is human, goes by the name of Lance and is nothing who Shiro expects him to be.
Relationships: Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 57
Collections: Lance Goes Boom





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the "Lance Goes Boom" - Langst Reverse Bang 2019/2020 - where the artists come up with ideas and sketches and then the writers develop and write a story around it (pretty cool idea).
> 
> Beautiful art was created by the most brilliant [griffonskies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/griffonskies) and you can find her post [here on Tumblr](https://griffonskies.tumblr.com/post/617713085542744064/lemme-entice-you-first-with-an-image-of-raspberry) \o/ please check it out! <3 an extra bucket of kudos and eternal gratefulness for her for sticking with me even though I kinda dropped out mid-bang for a few months, lalala.
> 
> **additional content note:** I was made aware that parts of this story have undertones of the transition of a transgender person. I also noticed this when the story was almost finished but I thought I simply overinterpreted my own work; it was not intentional since I'm in no position to write about experiences like that. But then someone else pointed it out as well and so I wanted to add it, just in case. I don't mean to upset anyone and content notes exist for a reason. About the story: It's all very happy in the end but the journey is a bit troubling.
> 
> Enjoy!

The cold wind struck against his face like whip strokes, his upheld arm providing him little protection against the winter storm. His feet sunk deep into the snow that covered the land around him. The branches of the surrounding trees hung dangerously low, ready to snap under the weight of snow and bury him.

Shiro cursed himself for leaving his cabin so late in the day. The first signs of a snowstorm had already shown up hours ago but against his usual better judgment he had firmly believed to return in time. All he had wanted to do was check on the deer yards in his part of the forest, refill them and maybe get some new firewood on his way back.

Now he had a hard time seeing anything more than three feet in front of him. The woolen cap and scarf were already soaked from the wet cold and also his jacket had reached its limit in keeping him warm. At least his boots were still dry. Hopefully, he would make it back home without wet feet.

Thankfully, it wasn’t far anymore, maybe half an hour if the weather didn’t get worse. Every step a struggle, he made his way forward, looking for familiar landmarks that helped him to find his way in the poor visibility. 

The wind kept whistling close to his ear and for a moment, Shiro thought he had heard something else. Not the cracks of the trees, not the howling wind but… an animal. Which animal was still outside in this weather and hadn’t found shelter?

Shiro stopped in his tracks. There it was again, a whimper, barely audible under the loud noises, but loud enough for him to turn in its direction. He lived long enough in the Northern Forest to recognize and distinguish the inhabitants’ sounds but this certain noise was something he hadn’t heard _in years._ Maybe a trick of the wind, he thought, but then he heard it again.

Meanwhile, the storm was getting worse minute by minute. Dark clouds gathered behind him, following his tracks like a predator.

The decision was quickly made, leaving no room for doubt: If Shiro didn't help it, it would die out here.

There was no way he was going to let that happen.

He didn’t have to walk long before he could make out its shape in the white land. Seeing was hard through the whirling snow but he identified it in an instant as he stepped into the small glade.

Although… it couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly be.

To the common folk, the animal almost looked like a large snow leopard if they didn’t pay much attention. But Shiro wasn't common folk.

Wings. Two battered wings stood out from his back, clinging close to its body.

It was a griffin. 

The animal had the face of a dog, the ears, body and tail of a cat, and the wings and feathers of a bird. The feathers on its body were greyish blue with darker feathers on its tail and wings. There were lighter feathers in his face and on its neck. It also had a pair of small turquoise horns on its head, somehow underdeveloped, Shiro noticed.

It’s been years since Shiro had seen one of those creatures. They’d become incredibly rare in his part of the world, if not even as good as extinct. Seeing one again - to be granted to see the beauty of a wild griffin again, after all this time - stunned him momentarily. 

The griffin’s bright blue eyes searched for something to help it out of its misery and a second later, Shiro saw why: His hind legs were stuck in a bear trap, the blood coloring the snow around it a deep crimson. It hissed and tried to cut loose from it.

Before Shiro could decide on anything, the griffin noticed his presence. His eyes turned pink and it snarled loudly, baring his teeth at the human as if it was fighting the fight of its life.

_Did it know? Did it recognize him?_ Shiro's heart broke at the well-known greeting. 

Slowly, he raised both hands in a calming manner. “I’m gonna help you,” he shouted through the storm and took a step closer. 

The griffin threw itself around, clearly not wanting Shiro to get closer. After all, humans were the most dangerous creatures on the planet. It didn’t take long before the griffin flopped down in the snow, his head weakly lying on his front paws. It was too exhausted to fight much longer but its eyes followed the human vigilantly. With slow steps, Shiro moved around the griffin and took a long look at the trap.

Not so long ago, hunting animals had been a celebrated sport. Hunting already rare animals even more so. Although the cruel sport had ended, Shiro hadn’t been able to find and disarm all the traps. There were just too many, some buried already, only appearing on the surface after a storm, others simply hidden in the forest’s underwoods.

The poor griffin was bleeding proof of that.

With trained hands, Shiro unlocked the trap and the griffin dragged itself a few feet away before it collapsed again, its snout digging weakly into the snow.

Shiro pinched his eyebrows. The wounds were deep. 

“Hey, hey, there,” he said softly and made himself visible in the griffin’s field of view. “You’re hurt very badly. I can take you with me.” The griffin tried to growl again but it quickly turned into a pathetic whimper. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Shiro’s grey eyes met the griffin’s blue ones. The animal was this close to accepting his help and it hurt Shiro to see the battle in its mind: either dying in the wild or dying in the hands of a human.

“I promise to keep you safe,” Shiro repeated, offering him a third option. The griffin’s eyes closed and it let out a long breath. 

It was giving up. 

Giving in. 

Giving itself into the mercy of a human stranger.

For a moment, Shiro forgot to breathe. It was a credit of trust, a leap of faith that the griffin in front of his feet displayed. Every other griffin would have rather died in a snowstorm than by Shiro’s hand.

Trusting Shiro meant death and his reputation had become widely known in this part of the world.

But this particular griffin… there was something different about him.

Shiro kneeled down. “I will carry you.” He reached out his hand to run his fingers gently over the feathers, clods of snow tangled in them. “It’s okay,” Shiro heard himself whisper, unsure if it was directed at the griffin or himself. 

With the utmost care, he wrapped his arms around the creature and lifted it up. The griffin was heavy but Shiro was strong. He had carried hurt deer often to his cabin to bandage them.

“Try not to move,” he mumbled as the nervous griffin began to shift in his arms. The front paws of the creature were thrown over his shoulder, his hands were holding the rest of the body up. Every step was a fight on its own but Shiro kept moving forward.

The wind was howling around them and slowly, real slowly, he carried the hurt griffin towards his home, a rush of relief flooding his body as soon as his cabin became visible in the near distance.

An unkind thought passed his mind when he opened the door and the warmth of the fireplace greeted them:

Saving this one griffin would never make up for all the griffins he had killed in the past.

* * *

“I’m changing the bandages, please don’t move again or--”

The bowl with hot water crashed to the floor when the griffin escaped the touch of Shiro’s hands and hit its tail against the table. 

Shiro sighed and gave the broken pieces a long stare. Meanwhile, the griffin had shuffled behind the worn-down couch on the other side of his one-room-cabin, his ears and tail impossible to hide which made a rather hilarious picture. It pulled a smile from Shiro despite the circumstances.

It was the third time he tried to check the wounds. When they had arrived at his cabin, the griffin had been unconscious and Shiro tended to its wounds without any problems. After it had woken up, it didn’t let Shiro close without freaking out. So he had kept his distance for the time being, giving it some space to rest in front of the fireplace where it had spent some hours sleeping off its exhaustion on a soft rug.

“I’m just trying to help,” Shiro repeated again. This time, he wasn’t able to hide the pleading sound in his voice. All he wanted to do was to save this one creature, this one griffin. “I have to change the bandages or your wound will get infected. Please. Do you want to lose your legs? It’s not nice, you know? I lost my arm, I can tell.”

There was a movement behind the couch and Shiro glanced towards it. 

The griffin slowly raised his head, peaking over the backrest. Its ears twitched curiously and his eyes took in the human’s right arm. 

“It’s a prosthetic,” Shiro explained and patted the wooden piece that had replaced its arm. “I can almost use it as a normal arm, put weight on it, carry hurt griffin through the worst snowstorm in years.”

The griffin’s ears twitched again, this time it almost looked bashfully. _Did it understand him? Impossible._

“I can even use it to change bandages on the most stubborn creatures.” He pressed his lips together. “If they let me.”

A good minute later, the griffin crawled back to take his place on the rut, ignoring Shiro but holding still when careful fingers fumbled on his hind legs. Its tail was tucked away under its body, almost as if accepting help was hurting its pride.

What a dramatic creature, Shiro thought.

He was extra careful.

* * *

The griffin slowly warmed up to being a house guest. It declared loudly when it was hungry or thirsty, whining a high-pitched noise that sounded so miserable, Shiro almost fell for its urgency, mistaking it for being a sign of pain.

As soon as he’d checked its wounds and came to the conclusion that they weren’t infected or getting worse, he shot the griffin a reprimanding look. It rolled on its side, stretching out its fluffy forelegs that ended not with pawns but soft bird-like feet. The whimpering didn’t stop when it playfully attempted to reach Shiro. 

“What is it?” the human asked in confusion. “Are you in pain? If you have to go outside to use, eh, nature’s bathroom, I’m not gonna carry you again, you are perfectly able to walk a few steps on your own.”

The griffin huffed indignantly at Shiro’s scolding.

“What do you need?” 

Slowly, Shiro lowered himself down on his knees between the griffin’s legs. Its eyes had changed its color from blue to a muddy yellow. The creature was still lying on the side and Shiro couldn’t help but think it looked more like a puppy or a cat than one of the most intriguing creatures that came into creation. The feather and the fur behind his ears shimmered in a warm blue color and-- without thinking, really, Shiro reached out his hand and petted it right there.

The griffin didn’t move. In fact, it appeared to be in a state of shock, frozen even, his big yellow eyes staring at the human scratching its ears. A few seconds later, it put his feet back on the floor next to the human, relaxing.

Shiro hummed. “You like that, huh?” 

The griffin’s nose began to twitch, soon accompanied by a sniffing sound, and suddenly, two things happened.

The griffin rolled on its back, its forelegs capturing Shiro and dragging him closer until--

“Stop licking my hands!”

Unable to free himself from the griffin’s hold, Shiro watched the creature’s rough tongue licking both of Shiro’s hands as if its life depended on it. It didn’t care that one of the hands was a wooden prosthetic, it was just as passionate about it as with the other fingers. 

When it appeared to be satisfied, it pulled the human even closer and for a moment, Shiro thought he was in real trouble when he came eye to eye with the griffin. Although they were almost the same size, it was still a wild creature with incredible strength. For a moment, nothing happened, then the griffin’s tongue darted out and licked straight over Shiro’s mouth.

“Urgh!” the human grunted and fell back, apparently now freed from its capture. “Gross, I was just eating.”

The griffin’s ears twitched in amusement. Was it making fun of him?

But then the creature stretched out his feet again, bumping it against Shiro’s shoulder without any force behind it and let out the miserable whimpering sound again.

“Oh.”

It clicked in Shiro’s mind.

“You are hungry!”

* * *

Considering their rough start, the human and the griffin bonded quickly over the course of the next week. Shiro couldn’t deny the warm feeling in his heart that came with the realization that the griffin had decided to trust him.

It was already dark when he stood in front of his cabin, content to have finished the necessary repairs on the roof after working on them for the last few days. Through the window, he caught a glimpse of the animal slowly making rounds inside. It was training its hindlegs, getting stronger now day by day. It won’t take long until the creature would be ready to leave again. The winter storms were still active in this part of the land but griffins could survive them - if they didn’t get trapped that was.

Griffins were able to survive a lot but not everything.

Shiro looked at his hands, one covered in a glove, one wooden and uncovered.

He sat down on a nearby tree stub and let his eyes take in the dark forest in front of him. An owl hooted its song in the distance. The storm was gone but the whistling of the wind between the branches was still the main background sound.

It was a starry night. The new moon in the sky was almost invisible, and the few shreds of clouds raced past it, so thin they barely cloaked the stars up high.

The night was a bit calmer - calm enough for some deer to leave the shelter they’d found and look for the food Shiro had left them in a few secure spots. Sometimes they would walk into the proximity of his home and it was moments like these that he was eternally grateful for. The deer had been the first animals to not push him away. They allowed him to approach and tend to the hurt ones. 

He wouldn’t go that far to call it trust but maybe respect they had for him, and that was more than Shiro could ever have hoped for.

The wooden cabin up north was the equivalent of being a loner, being far away from bigger villages or settlements. Shiro had his reasons: a past he was still trying to make up for, punishment included. The only people he met a few times a year were the caretakers of the animal rescue station even further up north. He’s never been there but was visited by them quite often when he moved here. They shared the same past as him, trying to make up for wrongdoings neither of the three was ultimately to blame for but… guilt would always find its way into the mind of people it didn’t belong to, especially when the one who had caused all pain was already dead. 

A loud sound made Shiro turn around. Staring at him through a window was the griffin, his blue eyes opened wide and full of curiosity. The second Shiro caught its gaze, it ducked, only its large ears still visible, making a poor attempt in hiding and pretending it hadn’t been staring.

Shiro turned back to face the forest and chuckled. 

Griffins were smart animals, empathetic and loyal, almost to a fault. He’d spent much time around them, he knew all their strengths and even more so their weaknesses.

But the one he had spent a cabin with for the last two weeks? It was different. Sometimes Shiro swore it could understand him. Not only the tone of his voice, if he was happy or angry, but also the exact _meaning_ of his words. Also, the griffin had begun snooping around when Shiro was doing his food rounds outside or collecting firewood. He didn’t know what the creature was looking for - at first he had thought it was searching for food or simply being curious about the place. But… he couldn’t shake off the feeling that it had tried to find out more about him. More about Shiro, the human.

It was an unsettling feeling.

As if he was about to get judged for his actions.

It’s been years since he was forced to fight against wild animals in a stadium built by the cruelest human. Zarkon, the former ruler of the old world, had found pleasure in hunting animals, collecting and trading them like one would have traded-- 

No. 

_Nothing_ had been traded and treated like them. They were kept in cages, carried around on carriages, so people with money were allowed to take a look.

His favorites had been the griffins, the proud animals of the north. Living in cliffs and canyons where they found shelter from the harsh weather. But in the summertime, when the cold winds were almost gone and replaced by warm ones, they used to spread their wide wings and flew through the sky, sometimes even so far south that the first smaller settlements were blessed to take a glimpse of them.

Zarkon robbed them of their peaceful existence. He had brought his troops up north and with new machinery, he had captured them. One by one, until the last desperate cry of a free griffin had ebbed.

He hadn’t only caught animals. He’d caught humans, too. He’d caught a teenager of 10 years, strong for his age…

Shiro shook his head at the memories making their way up to the surface. It’s been fourteen years since he’d been captured. It’s been ten years since they began to make him fight the most beautiful creatures. It’s been three years since he killed the last griffin, the night before Zarkon got overthrown and the remaining animals rescued. 

There was so much blood on his hands, one saved griffin was never gonna change it.

The sounds of steps in the snow made him alert and he turned around.

The griffin appeared next to him.

Shiro let out a long-shuttered breath.

“Oh, it’s you.” He shook his head. “Go back inside.” He didn’t want to see this creature in his current state of mind, not when all he was able to think about was how cold their bodies felt when he had to drag them away each night.

The griffin ignored his words and approached him, still careful to not put all of his weight on its hind legs, and slowly but determinedly put his head on Shiro’s thighs. 

Shiro’s breath hitched. It was such a comforting gesture and he wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of it. The griffin purred and rolled his head closer towards Shiro’s stomach, sharing its warmth with the human. When Shiro didn't move, the purring got more urgent. With the utmost care, he curled his hand into the griffin’s feathers, scratching and petting it behind its ears. Approvingly, it rubbed his head on Shiro’s chest and stomach, almost as if it wanted to return the cuddles. With the memories on his doorstep, he realized he had forgotten how warm they felt alive, how soft the feathers were without blood clocking it up, and how soothing their noises could be when they didn’t scream for their life.

“I don’t deserve this,” Shiro whispered, his voice thick from the tears that pooled in his eyes. “You should leave,” he said but neither the griffin nor the human changed their position. “You need to leave,” Shiro sobbed and buried his face in the griffin’s fur. “You need to leave, I don’t deserve you.”

The griffin didn’t move, only its purring got more intense.

Shiro was in a bad headspace when the griffin began tucking on his sleeves, forcing him back into the warm cabin. Shiro obliged, stumbling after it, letting it pull him inside and on his bed.

Exhaustion took over and the last thing he remembered was the warmth of a blanket getting pulled over him. 

Then the nightmares took over. He knew it was a dream but he was too exhausted to wake himself up. He trashed around, from right to left, _please, let it go, don’t make it fight for its life again, the new griffin was still so young and small, please don’t._

The mattress under him shifted and for a moment, the arena around him vanished. There was a tutting sound next to him. A warm body closing in. 

Shiro opened his tear-crusted eyes and turned his head. The griffin had crawled on his bed, lying on its stomach, pressing his body close to his. It tutted again, its warm snout giving Shiro’s head a comforting touch.

He didn’t deserve this, he thought. _Don’t you know what I did_ , he wanted to say, but-- he couldn’t. Not that the creature was able to understand him anyway. 

Another noise pierced through the otherwise silent room. Something he hadn’t heard in many years. The sounds of wings spreading. It sounded odd though. Less powerful.

His eyes briefly met the blue ones of the griffin who huffed before closing them again, settling in to sleep.

Shiro was too tired to take a proper look but something soft and light was engulfing him, tucking him in like an additional blanket. 

Protecting him from bad dreams. 

* * *

A second week passed.

* * *

Shiro woke up from an urgent and persistent knocking on his door. The first thing he noticed was how cold the air in his cabin was. He had forgotten to put more wood into the fireplace last night, damn. How had he not turned to ice this night?

The image of the griffin in his bed appeared in his mind and drew a smile from him. Oh right. He turned his head towards the creature whose weight and warmth he was still able to feel next to him like so many nights before.

Only--

Shiro let out a scream and tried to untangle himself from the bedsheets - failing when he ultimately fell out of bed, his eyes still glued to the other side of the bed.

The griffin was gone.

Instead, there was a human lying next to where Shiro had spent the night. A young man with bright blue eyes and a smile on his lips that didn’t hide his amusement at Shiro’s dishevelment.

He propped himself up on his forearms. “Morning,” he said.


	2. Chapter 2

The moment the words had left his lips, the young man froze, probably realizing why Shiro was staring at him the way he did. Quickly, he sat up straight, glancing at his hands _over_ the blanket, shooting a look _under_ the blanket and wrapping it closer to his body.

“Okay, don’t freak out but I’m naked.”

Shiro’s mouth gaped open. His mind tried to make sense of what he was witnessing but he had a hard time trying to form words in his head. 

“You’re-- you’re a--”

“A naked human?” the, well, naked human said. “I know. You should answer the door, they’ve been at it for a while.” He pointed his thumb towards the window where the milky shapes of two persons could be seen.

Shiro eyed him strangely. There was only one explanation for it all. Slowly, he pulled at the blanket, uncovering the other man’s legs. 

Bandages, loose bandages and almost healed wounds.

“You’re the--”

“Can you see him?”

A face appeared right in front of the window, gazing inside with hands and nose pressed against the glass.

“He’s on the floor, I think he’s hurt!” a voice outside shouted.

Shiro made haste to get up but it was already too late: With a loud crack, the door split wide open.

“Takashi! Are you oka-- Oh.”

A woman about his age with long white hair stood in the doorway, her fingers still clutching the handle she’d accidentally ripped off while forcing the door open. Her cheeks had a reddish touch on her dark skin and snowflakes clung to her pink winter outfit. 

“I’m sorry about the door,” she quickly pressed out and waved the handle around as if she didn’t know how it had ended up in her hand. Shiro cracked a smile. Typical Allura. 

“No worries,” he said, suddenly aware he was still sitting on the floor like a fool.

Lotor appeared behind her, glimpsing inside. He had the same hair as his cousin but his skin was lighter and he was a few inches taller. He wore an identical snow outfit, only in purple. 

“We were worried about you, is everything--”

Allura’s and Lotor’s eyes found the human on the bed. 

This gave Shiro enough motivation to finally get a grip and get up from his unfortunate position that didn’t do him any favors in coming up with an explanation about his guest. Hell, even Shiro was still in the dark, his mind only coming up with ideas that appeared to be almost impossible if the proof wasn’t currently lying in his bed with a curious and almost mischievous grin on his face.

“I’m good, we’re, uh, we’re good,” Shiro stammered and gave a nod towards the man in his bed. “This is my friend, uh…”

“Lance,” the freshly turned human said with a cheery voice. He didn’t give the impression of being embarrassed at all and Shiro didn’t know what to make of it.

Allura was the first one to break the awkward silence. “Nice to meet you,” she said and removed the pink hat from her head. “I’m Allura and this is my cousin Lotor.”

From the corner of his eye, Shiro noticed how quickly Lance’s expression changed. From amused and curious to cold and careful in a heartbeat. And apparently he wasn’t the only one to notice it.

“We’ll give you a moment,” Lotor said quietly and pulled Allura back outside.

As soon as the door was closed - well, as best as possible after being forced open - Shiro looked back at Lance. 

Lance. 

He was a young man with a tan so healthy that he couldn’t possibly be from the north. Probably a Southerner who got lost - wouldn’t be the first time. His short brown bed hair resembled the mess the griffin’s feathers had been whenever Shiro had run his fingers through it. Even the blue eyes were just the same, staring back at him with patience. There was a little scar on his forehead - a scar Shiro had tended to himself. 

Without a doubt. This was really happening.

“So you’re--” 

The griffin. A shapeshifter. He wanted to say it but he couldn’t get the words over his lips.

The man - Lance, Lance was his name - nodded. “Yes. So, uh, do you have any clothes? I lost my bag in the storm.”

“Next to you, the closet. Take what you want.”

Shiro turned away to give him some privacy. He picked up his sweater from the ground and they both got dressed in uncomfortable silence. Not the fact that the griffin had shifted into a human was the cause, no. Shapeshifters existed, it was a difficult art. It was the changed mood in the room. From friendly to borderline aggressive in a heartbeat.

“You friends with them? Huh?”

Although Lance’s voice was quiet it didn’t lack the necessary tone of accusation to punch Shiro’s heart and make him cringe. 

“I know what you think and let me tell you that--” Shiro turned around and stopped abruptly when he laid his eyes on Lance. He had put on a black pair of jeans that seemed to fit him and was currently looking for a sweater or shirt. His naked back was turned towards Shiro who was confronted with a huge scar that spread across Lance’s entire back. 

It looked bad, really bad.

When Shiro had tended to the griffin’s wounds, he’d thought it had hurt its wings recently, probably during the storm, and was careful not to touch them - never touch the wings, that much he had learned. They were very delicate and sensitive with a lot of nerve cords. 

But these scars… they were old. 

It was unusual for a shifter to take scars like that from one form into the other. Lance must have a very deep connection to the chosen form.

“I asked if you’re friends with these people.”

Finally wearing a blue sweater, Lance hurled around, anger written across his face. The frown on his forehead ran deep and his lips were pressed tightly together. 

Oh God, Shiro deserved it. The fury of a griffin, even if he was just a shapeshifter one, this was what he deserved, didn't he?

“The markings on their faces,” Lance hissed. “Every child knows the markings belong to the Galra and Altean. Murderers. Killers.” With an aggressive gesture he pointed towards the door. “ _Those_ people. How can you be on good terms with them? How can you be on _any_ terms with them?”

“Lance, they are far away from being anything you just said. They are kind. They try to make up for what Zarkon has done.”

With heavy steps, Lance stomped around the bed until he’d cornered Shiro in front of his desk. 

“They were there,” he whispered harshly. Disappointment had replaced the anger on his face and Shiro didn’t know why this hurt him even more.

“They were teenagers!” Shiro pleaded urgently, his voice breaking in the middle of the last word, and he felt guilty trying to plead not only for them but also for himself.

There was a knock again.

“You decent?” Allura’s voice sounded through the door.

“Can we talk about this later? Please.”

Lance answered with a curt nod and took a few steps back. The dark cloud of mistrust and anger still clung to his face when Shiro opened the door and let in the two guests.

“Good morning again,” Shiro said. “Sorry about, uh, before.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Allura said gently, her eyes flickering between him and Lance. “It’s nice to see you have some company.”

“What brings you here?” Shiro quickly asked to leer the conversation away from exactly this fact.

Lotor stepped forward. “We’re on our way up north for the rest of the winter and coming spring but came across the traces of a griffin.”

“A… griffin? Here in the woods?”

“Unlikely,” Lance stated bluntly, earning a strange look from Lotor.

“We found a trap not far away from here, it still had some blood on it. Griffin blood, without any doubt. So we wondered if you-- had seen it. From the state of the trap, it had to be hurt badly. Would have probably died without any medical attention.”

“I’ve been here for two weeks and I haven’t seen any griffins,” Lance said and crossed his arms before his chest. He turned to Shiro. “Neither did you, right?”

The question was loaded, the violence in Lance’s blue eyes even more so and for a second, Shiro was sure to have seen a griffin-like pink sparkle in them. But that couldn’t be, not without having fully shifted. Strange.

“I, uh… can’t say I have.” Shiro looked back at Lotor and Allura. “I’m sorry. The storms have been ugly lately so I didn’t walk that far.”

Allura sighed. “I told you,” she said quietly to Lotor who took her hand. 

“Maybe it has survived,” he replied. “They are stubborn creatures.”

“You have no idea,” Shiro mumbled.

“Why are you so interested in griffins?” Lance asked. With crossed arms and raised chin he was giving them a sharp look.

Allura and Lotor exchanged a quick glance. 

“Me and my cousin,” Allura explained slowly, “we look out for them as best as we can. There’s a rescue center up north where griffins can live free and safe. We tend to those who are hurt and make sure no hunters enter the area.”

“Are there fences?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Are there fences?” Lance repeated impatiently. “Easy question.” He didn’t even try to hide his disgust, no, quite on the contrary, he displayed it rather intentionally.

“Well, yes,” Allura admitted, visibly taken aback by Lance’s open hostility. “But only to mark the area.”

“So it’s a zoo.”

“No, there are no people to watch them,” Lotor objected. “Every griffin can leave anytime.”

Carefully, Shiro put his healthy hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Lance, they’re helping.” 

The former griffin rolled his shoulder to get rid of Shiro’s hand. 

“Nothing good ever came from your family,” Lance said and walked towards the fireplace to ignite it, giving them all the literal cold shoulder.

Shiro heaved a sigh and addressed his two guests. “We haven’t seen anything.”

He resisted the urge to apologize for Lance. It was definitely not his place and he couldn’t speak for him. 

Allura leaned closer to Shiro. “Does he know--” She gave him a little but meaningful nod.

Did Lance know that he was in the house of a famous griffin killer? _The Champion?_

“No,” Shiro breathed.

She frowned and opened her mouth to say something but Lotor gently grabbed her arm.

“We should go,” he decided and walked towards the door. Reluctantly, Allura followed but not without casting Shiro a last look full of worry. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime,” Shiro said.

“Goodbye. I see you next summer. It was nice meeting you, Lance,” Allura called inside.

Lance didn’t even nod.

She gave Shiro another questioning look that begged for an explanation. Who was Shiro’s guest, where did he come from, why was he angry at Allura and Lotor but-- But not at Shiro? How could he possibly not know? Everyone knew.

Even more so, there was no doubt that Lance had studied griffins to learn how to turn into one. Learning about the species’ past included Shiro’s name and pictures drawn in books, showing him standing proudly among cadavers. 

“It’s complicated,” he whispered apologetically because there was nothing else to offer at this point.

After a hopefully reassuring nod from Shiro, Allura closed the door behind her and Lotor. Only now Shiro realized how tense he’d been throughout the entire situation. His shoulders began to relax and he let out a long breath.

"Takashi, huh?" 

Shiro whirled around.

"What?" 

Lance was down on the ground, starting the fire in the fireplace and not looking at him. "Your name. Takashi,” he repeated. “I didn't know before."

"Right. And you're Lance."

They waited in silence until the fire was lit and slowly filling the cabin with some well-needed warmth. Shiro was openly gawking at Lance who appeared to be lost in thoughts while probing the fire with a stick. 

His face was illuminated by the flames, his eyes the same blue Shiro had marveled at so many times before. He’d been beautiful as a griffin, he was beautiful as a human. Maybe two or three years younger than Shiro.

Curious, he thought, that a man that age had already mastered the difficult art of shapeshifting. In the years of Zarkon’s reign, Shiro had encountered only a handful of trained shifters, the youngest had been in his late forties. Lance had to be… the most powerful shapeshifter of all time, especially with choosing such a complex form as a griffin. Allura was acquainted with the art, training to learn it and having mastered a changed skin color so far, even though only purple. And Allura did have an alchemistic background that helped a lot.

Shiro wondered if Lance might be the heir of a powerful witch or an alchemistic family. But what led him up north?

Lance shuffled in front of the fireplace, stubbornly sticking the stick into the flames. The blue sweater - Shiro’s blue sweater - was too big for him, uncovering one of his shoulders but engulfing the rest of his upper body like a warm blanket.

But something haunted him, that much was obvious to see. The way he had acted around his guests, the sudden anger and disgust, the still visible frown on his face. Hating the Galra and Altean was the norm. But this here, it appeared to touch him on a very personal level.

Shiro almost didn’t dare to breathe, confronted with such beauty and rage.

Lance’s voice was quiet but that didn’t dampen the words’ impact. “Everyone who worked for Zarkon is evil." 

Shiro lowered his gaze. His old companions shame and guilt busted in, not having to travel far since they resided in the back of his mind since he remembered.

"They try their best to make up for Zarkon's misdeeds,” he replied, voice tiny.

"Misdeeds?” Lance hissed, piercing him with a sharp look. “You mean genocide."

"Some... didn't have a choice." 

"You _always_ have a choice, you just have to fight for it."

Bad memories always knew shortcuts inside his mind. Quickly, Shiro crossed the room, took his jacket, slipped into his boots and left. He couldn’t stay here a second longer, not if his life depended on it.

The snow outside muffled the sounds but sadly enough not his own thoughts. 

_You always have a choice_ echoed in his mind.

The worst part was that Lance was right. Shiro knew how right he was. Of course, he had a choice back then. Could’ve said no. No to the arena fights. No to the killing. But the indoctrination and propaganda had made him doubt his own morals. And for a while, it was easier to follow the rules instead of questioning them. 

And then one day, he said no to fighting. He got punished, the scars of the streaks the whips had left on his back still visible to this day. So he fought.

One day he said no to killing. Someone else got punished for him. The griffin he had to fight - they tortured the creature and forced Shiro to watch. The torture went on and on until Shiro took his own knife and... ended it.

From that moment on, every time he walked into the arena, he promised himself and the griffin to make it a quick death when it came to it.

It came to it too much.

He’d tried to lose a few times but that just meant another fighter entered the arena and made a bigger and bloodier mess. Fighters who didn’t show any mercy.

_You always have a choice._

He should’ve died back then. That would’ve been the decision he’d missed to make.

Shiro’s mind didn’t pay any attention to where he walked but his muscle memories didn’t fail him. The morning was still fresh and the wind strong yet not aggressive. His feet had taken him to the nearest deer shelter - a small but deep cave the animals hid in during the worst storms. He checked it in case there was a wounded one but it was empty. 

Hours passed, hours of checking shelters, looking for hurt animals and searching for traps the storms might have uncovered. It was afternoon already when his body couldn’t walk anymore, too exhausted from the lack of food and water.

He made his way back.

Warmth greeted him when he opened the door.

And Lance.

Lance who jumped up from the desk he’d been sitting at, a remorseful look on his face.

“I-- I want to apologize,” he stammered, his hands folded in front of him as if he was praying to Shiro. “I’m sorry, Takashi. You saved my life in that terrible snowstorm and I’m acting like an ass. Your friends are your business, no matter if I understand it or not. You can’t expect me to like them but-- I will behave.”

“Don’t force yourself.”

It came out sharper than intended, the anger directed at himself, not at Lance. The only thing Lance had done was saying the truth out loud. The truth Shiro knew to be true, the truth he tried to forget. That he was always going to be a monster.

“I mean it.” Lance took a careful step towards him, as if Shiro was the one to be tread around lightly. It only hurt more. “You’re one of the kindest and most selfless people I’ve ever met and if you can vouch for those people then--”

“You… don’t know me, Lance,” Shiro interrupted him softly. “I’m not a good person.”

Lance heaved a sigh. “Look. We spent the last two weeks together. Sure, we didn’t actually talk but I did get to know you. You take care of the forest and the creatures living there, every day with no regard for the weather. I know you have a troubling past. I spent weeks right by your side, every night you have nightmares. I feel absolutely helpless so I can’t even imagine how you must feel.”

“Hungry.”

“Huh?”

“I’m hungry.”

Shiro felt Lance’s eyes tracing his face and body. He pointed at his dirty clothes.

“You look like a mess."

“Crawled into a few caves."

Lance tsked. Shiro's heart jumped at the sound. It was eerily familiar to the tutting sound of his griffin form. “I’m making you breakfast," Lance said. "Or rather lunch.”

“No,” Shiro declined, walking up to his kitchenette only to stumble against the couch. Dizziness took over and he had to cling to the backrest for stability. For a moment, the world became blurry but he felt strong hands leading him around the couch, forcing him to sit down.

* * *

They ate in silence but the atmosphere wasn’t quiet. Sitting opposite each other with the desk serving as a dining table, it was hard to ignore his guest. Lance’s expressions changed from timid apologetic smiles to full-blown frowns full of doubt, dragging Shiro’s feelings along with them.

“That was good,” Shiro said after the last spoon of hot soup, “thank you.”

The smile was back. “You’re welcome,” Lance said. 

There was hope in his eyes. Hope of Shiro accepting Lance’s apology for being rude to his friends. 

_Hope._

Shiro had seen it too many times, just a moment before he had destroyed it.

Without a word, he got up and took a book from a nearby shelf. His fingers trailed across the dark leather binding, touching the thick paper inside, contemplating if this was the right choice.

“What’s that?” Lance asked.

If right or not, the decision was made.

“My diary,” Shiro answered. “One of many, actually, but the most recent one.” He walked up to the desk and put it next to Lance’s empty bowl. “Read it.”

Lance stared at him in confusion. “Why?”

“I won’t lie to you.”

“What about? Takashi, just tell me.”

“Takashi, right,” Shiro echoed thoughtfully. “That’s who I am now. But you need to know about my past.”

“I don’t understand,” Lance states, first confused, then alarmed when Shiro began packing a bag. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll be back tonight. There’s another cabin in the woods, ten miles east from here. I use it mostly for storage. It’s smaller but fully stocked for now. Firewood and some vegetables, bed and a fireplace. I come by next week and bring you more. You can stay there as long as you want to. Keep the clothes.”

“You expect me to leave?” Lance asked as it dawned on him that the bag Shiro packed was for him.

“It’s up to you but yes. I expect you to be gone when I’m back. It was nice meeting you, Lance.” Shiro pressed the bag in the shapeshifter’s hands and without as much as looking back, left his cabin.

It started snowing again but Shiro didn’t mind. There was always something to do out there. Something to take off his mind for the next few hours.

* * *

No light.

That was the first thing Shiro noticed when he approached his home. The fire appeared to be dimly lit but there weren’t any candles.

So he was gone.

A pang of sadness hit him. _Just as expected_ , a voice told him, emitting a strange kind of pride, displaced and sick. _Always the monster._

Shiro shook off the snow on his shoes and clothes and entered, his heart heavy.

A familiar sound welcomed him, coming from the rug in front of the fireplace.

The snoring of a griffin.

Lance.

Being shocked and unable to close the door behind him, cold wind drew in, stirring the creature awake. Lazily, it stretched its legs before it noticed the darkness of the room, the fire almost out.

It whirled around, facing Shiro with intense yellow eyes.

“You’re still here,” Shiro whispered.

The griffin walked up to him, slowly and carefully. 

Shiro almost expected it to attack him. After all the things he’d written into his diaries, recollections of his most gruesome kills and how they haunt him every day, the things he did, knowing they were wrong but unable to find a way out… 

A normal person would kill him for it.

Lance wasn’t a normal person; he was a shifter who chose the griffin as his shape. Maybe he would torture him before.

The griffin was close, only a step away. The yellow eyes glowed in the almost dark. Another step. Shiro didn’t dare to breathe. This was the end.

Something wet.

And rough.

Shiro looked at his hand, the griffin’s tongue licking it gently. A nudge of its pout against Shiro’s stomach followed along with a quiet purr.

“I’ll make dinner,” Shiro choked out, not being able to fight against the tears streaming down his cheeks.

* * *

Lance stayed in griffin shape for the next four days.

Shiro couldn’t tell if it was a test for Shiro, some sort of punishment or a safety measure. Or something personal.

He offered Lance the bed, at least now knowing he was indeed perfectly able to understand his words, and went to sleep on the couch.

Sometimes, he would wake up at night after another horrible dream and watch the griffin.

Lance.

Wondering why he hadn’t left yet.

* * *

The fifth night was the hardest. A nightmare fueled by his darkest memories shook him awake with a jolt and a scream. As much as he was glad to be awake, he hated how the aftershocks broke him every time. He sobbed into his cushion, trying to muffle the sound of his choking, shame and guilt once again taking control. 

There was a movement in the room. Shiro pressed his face deeper into the couch.

A tutting sound. Insistently. Demanding attention.

Shiro turned around, vision blurred from crying. The griffin sat beside the couch, gentle blue eyes taking him in. 

“I’m sorry,” Shiro whispered with a hoarse voice and wiped the tears off his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Tutting again, indignantly, dismissing the apology. The griffin scooted closer, Shiro could almost feel its breath.

Without warning, the tongue darted out, licking the tears off Shiro’s hands, always tutting.

“Tickles,” Shiro mumbled, a shiver running down his spine. 

The tongue shot up and licked a wide stripe across his face, making him giggle.

“Stop it,” he reprimanded the creature half-heartedly, feeling so much lighter all of a sudden.

The griffin purred in answer, almost vibrating as it put its head on Shiro’s chest and got petted behind its ears. 

“Thank you.”

The griffin closed its eyes, falling asleep under the gentle touches. Then its wings spread, trying to wrap around Shiro as it had done once before. It probably didn’t have control over it, an instinctive act born from the wish to protect.

They had felt strangely light, Shiro remembered. This time he saw why.

The almost extinguished fire shed only little light but he could see it clearly. He’d thought the wings had been battered by the storm, always pressed tightly against its back with the fur hiding most of them.

Wrong.

They’d been hidden for a reason.

Because there were only stubbles left and a few feathers in rough shape. No chance of flying.

It all screamed violence.

Shiro’s heart hurt just by the sight of it. That explained the scar on Lance’s back - whatever had happened, it had affected him so badly that it also left its mark on his human form.

Strange for a shapeshifter.

Whatever happened, it had been painful.

Shiro hugged him tighter.

* * *

When the morning came and Shiro opened his eyes, Lance had turned human again, his head resting peacefully on Shiro’s chest, the rest of his naked body slouched next to the couch on the ground. 

Shiro’s hand was still in his brown hair and he couldn’t help himself but gently stroke it one last time. A content hum escaped Lance’s lips, his head following Shiro’s fingers until they had captured his cheek and cradled it gently.

The sight of it punched the breath out of Shiro’s lungs. The trust, the intimacy, the affection. 

His pulse raced, his heart beat faster than ever and he didn’t dare to move, not with something so precious in his hold. But the fire was out and Lance was getting colder. With the utmost care, he stood up and carried him into his bed where he slept for another hour while Shiro was making breakfast.

* * *

They didn’t talk about the night.

They didn’t talk about the diary.

* * *

Lance began helping him with the cabin and the tasks outside. There was plenty to do, especially with the winter storms smashing through the forest every few days. 

Slowly, Lance opened up. Not much but he slipped some details about his life and other things Shiro was able to deduct from the way he was reacting. 

He was indeed from the south. His parents didn’t appear to be in the picture since he didn’t mention them. There was a good friend called Hunk who seemed to be the closest person to him. And a friend called Pidge. They all lived together but as far as Shiro was able to learn, he had no work despite years of apprenticeship and desperately trying to find one. For some reason a sensitive topic. 

Shiro didn’t know why. Lance was hard-working and kind, flexible and learned new things quickly. 

The most noticeable thing though was his low-self-esteem that he tried to hide behind a happy face. He talked himself down, not even as a joke but in the firm belief he wasn't good enough. And he was jumpy as a human, easily startled. Shiro was worried. It all indicated that Lance had run away from something. Or someone. He thought about the bad shape of the wings. Had he been abused?

The nights were spent in quiet. Lance had insisted on Shiro taking the bed so he did. Maybe Lance had chosen the griffin for his shapeshifter form because they were both stubborn as hell. 

Shiro had offered to share the bed but it drew an unexpected reaction from Lance. 

“I don’t like to be touched,” he had said, the sound of his voice indicating it was the end of the argument and there was nothing more to say. It confused Shiro deeply.

Because when the nightmares were bad and he woke up startled or screaming, Lance was beside him in his griffin form, soothing him with the tutting sounds, cuddling him and letting himself be cuddled in return.

When morning came and Shiro woke up, Lance was already shifted back and dressed.

They didn’t talk about it either, not the seven times it happened, but Lance would smile at him in a certain way the following morning, a smile that lit up his entire face.

Lance asked if he was allowed to stay until his wounds were fully healed. There wasn't much more to heal, they both knew it.

Shiro couldn’t say _yes_ fast enough.


	3. Chapter 3

During the following two weeks, it became increasingly harder to ignore the topics at hand.

Why was Lance staying despite Shiro being a killer? And what had led him up here?

What worked against the importance of those questions was the development of their relationship.

It started with practiced co-existing. 

Shiro took care of everything related to the deers and forest, Lance made sure the cabin was always in peak shape. But despite having decided on shared tasks, they often found themselves drawn towards each other, dismissing their agreement without thinking twice.

The co-existing turned into something like a friendship.

On some days they would talk a lot, telling stories worth remembering, some serious, leaving them somber, but quite a few that ended with them laughing. Shiro had almost forgotten how good it felt to laugh until his belly hurt, for Lance it appeared to be a completely new experience. Happiness looked good on him, Shiro thought.

On other days, they would rarely share a word with each other but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was giving each other the space they needed that day, space for something much darker in their minds that would come out from time to time.

Lance missed his friends Hunk and Pidge who - as far as Shiro could tell - seemed to be very protective of the shapeshifter. Shiro was oddly grateful for these two people taking care of him although Lance himself appeared to be very capable of everything he’d set his mind to.

Once or twice Shiro tried to steer the conversation towards his reason for coming all the way north but Lance kept quiet. Instead, a strange smile appeared on his lips, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

* * *

It happened when another snowstorm forced them into the cabin for the unforeseeable future.

The atmosphere in the comparted space was tense when Shiro served dinner that evening. Being cooped up all day was hard for Lance, he became restless quickly. Shiro didn’t want to break what they had but not talking about it felt also wrong. They both deserved some answers. 

They were busy washing the dishes with Shiro thinking about how to breach the subject when Lance broke the silence himself.

“I hate being a griffin.”

Shiro stopped in his tracks, still holding a soaked plate in his hand, and stared at him. 

“I hate it so much it makes me sick. It disgusts me.”

Words said with passion and anger, words not to be doubted yet it felt like Shiro had been lied to. All the times they had held each other as human and griffin… had cuddled and shared warmth. Times that Shiro held so dear to his heart... it had disgusted Lance?

“I was stuck in this form for two weeks straight after I got trapped and I almost lost my mind. I used to shift a lot when I was younger, before I learned to control it,” he explained as if Shiro had asked him about it instead of standing frozen in shock next to him.

Shiro tried to swallow the knot in his throat and put down the plate he was holding.

“And now you can’t control it anymore?” he asked, trying to sound casual. How young had he been when he received the training to shapeshift? This was unheard of, a teenager as a shifter?

Lance shook his head. “Not all the time. It gets worse now that I’m older. Harder to control. I change more often.”

“That’s… unusual. I could ask Allu-- a friend, she’s training to become a shifter. She might have books that provide a solution.”

To his surprise, Lance chuckled darkly.

“That won’t work.” He looked into Shiro’s eyes, a wild determination pushing through. “I heard there was a witch living in the far north. Someone who can take it away.”

“Take it away?”

“Yes.”

No elaboration. 

“Why… do you hate it so much? Being a shapeshifter?”

Shiro hadn’t been aware he had stepped forward, his hand reaching out to pat his friend’s arm in a hopefully soothing manner.

Lance’s eyes turned pink and his lip twitched up, teeth showing for the splinter of a second.

“Don’t touch me.”

Quickly, Shiro pulled back.

The atmosphere changed in an instant, something was ready to snap - or someone - to which end Shiro didn’t know. The question he had asked was one not to be asked, that much was obvious. And he had forgotten Lance didn’t want to be touched which… apparently only applied to his human form.

Rage and disgust radiated off Lance, Shiro almost expected him to become violent with his eyes shining the exact color like an aggressive griffin. Odd.

But this time, he had it under control. Slowly and with the help of some deep breaths, Lance calmed down. The next time he looked at Shiro, his eyes had their beautiful calm blue again.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

Shiro respected his wish.

* * *

The talk hadn't been enough. Something had opened up, something containing the ugly side of a truth that began to fester between them. They were on one of their daily rounds through the forest when Shiro couldn’t take it any longer.

“Lance,” he said, bidding him drop down the firewood he was carrying. It was a quiet day, the sky was blue for a change without a cloud to see. Although the sun wasn’t able to warm them much, it was pleasant to feel the beams on their faces.

“What is it?” 

Shiro sat down on a nearby tree trunk and Lance joined him.

“You read my diary.”

Lance nodded solemnly, looking at him with big eyes.

“But you stayed. Why?” Shiro demanded to know. 

“Do you need a reason?”

“Yes.”

“At first? Because you helped me, cared about me. Then, because I cared about you.” He paused. “And I still do.”

“But I’m a monster.”

Lance smiled weakly.

“So am I.”

“Lance, I know how you feel about shifting into a griffin but I killed hundreds of them. I’m a murderer. A killer.”

“You were.”

“There’s no redemption for me.”

“I killed people, too.”

“What?”

Lance lowered his gaze.

“I wish I could say it was self-defense but the truth is it wasn’t. I was angry. I killed them in anger when I lost control.”

“Oh.”

“Three guys from school. For as long as I can remember, they used to humiliate me, spit at me, beat me.” His voice was small. “Touch me.” 

Shiro could swear the entire forest stopped breathing to give Lance the necessary silence to talk.

“It’s a small village,” Lance continued, “so it didn’t end when school was over. No one protected me, I was fair game. The last few years were harder though. No one would hire me because of… what I was. And one day, I snapped. They ambushed me on my way home after yet another failed job interview at the local mill. Called me names, hit me a few times.” He shrugged. “The usual. Always trying to provoke me to fight back. I never did, not one time. They wanted me to turn so badly but I never gave them this satisfaction. Until that day.”

He stopped for a moment, catching his breath. 

“It’s-- it was silly in hindsight, the thing that broke the dam. They stirred me up for years and what made me snap was one single sentence. ‘Lance, you’re pretty for a--” He shook his head. “I couldn’t stop myself. I turned. In public. Next thing I remember is the taste of blood in my mouth and three bodies on the ground.”

A silence full of exhaustion filled the space between them.

“After that, I ran away, only stopped to pack a bag and tell my friends goodbye. I have some sort of stepfather, Coran, who works in a book shop. He used to tell me about rumors of a witch in the north, a powerful one who might be able to help me.”

He took a deep breath. “Because I cannot live like this much longer. Not only does it kill me but also others.”

“But… the guys, they deserved to die," Shiro argued. "After everything they’ve done to you... You’re not to blame for standing up for yourself.” Prejudices against shapeshifters were something new to Shiro. As far as he knew, they were admired. Things didn't add up but he didn't want to probe too much. Lance opening up was precious enough.

“Maybe they deserved it,” Lance said, "but it wasn’t my choice. I didn’t choose to murder them, I wasn’t in control. You didn’t have a choice back then either,” he whispered and gazed at Shiro’s prosthetic. 

Right, the diary. Lance knew how Shiro had lost his arm. One day a new order from Zarkon had arrived. The one they called Champion, would he still be worth his name with a handicap?

“Can’t you learn it? Taking control again?”

“You asked me that before and once again I tell you, no, I cannot learn it by books or by a teacher.”

Shiro yearned to know why, the need to help Lance so powerful he wanted to do anything possible to make him feel better about himself.

“That’s why I need to find that witch. Okay?”

Shiro contemplated it for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay.”

“I can never give back the lives I took, neither can you. Maybe we could have done something to prevent it from happening. Maybe we were weak, I don’t know. But we know it was wrong and try to make amends.” Lance stood up, reaching a hand out to Shiro. “We’re different and yet the same.”

Shiro took his hand and let himself get pulled up.

“The reason I stayed remains the same though.”

Shiro looked at him, lost. 

“I care about you,” Lance repeated, a beautiful stubborn pout appearing on his face. That’s when Shiro noticed that for the first time, Lance not only let himself being touched but even more so had initiated it.

“I care about you, too, Lance.”

They didn’t let go of each other’s hands on their way back, forgetting about the firewood they left behind.

* * *

Shiro wasn’t able to ignore the butterflies in his stomach any longer.

* * *

One time Lance had a particularly bad day so Shiro surprised him with his favorite meal that evening. Instead of thanking him, Lance hugged him for the first time. It was awkward and stiff, and Lance was blushing after pulling back.

Shiro loved every second.

* * *

Shiro was busy shoveling fresh snow to make a path from the cabin into the forest when something hit him against his head. Wet, cold, making him shudder.

Lance giggled. Shiro threw a snowball back.

It escalated, both laughing and panting, until Shiro slipped.

In some regards, Shiro wasn’t different from other people, so he did the thing most people would do after a fall: lying still and contemplating every step that had led to this embarrassing situation.

He knew Lance was around and was prepared for being laughed at. It never came. Instead, Lance crawled over him, his knees propped next to Shiro’s hips, his hands next to his head.

“I win.”

Shiro didn’t dare to move, even more not when Lance leaned down until their foreheads touched. Much like his griffin self, he playfully nudged his nose against Shiro’s.

“Doesn’t feel like losing,” Shiro whispered.

Lance grinned, flushed red, and kissed him on his cheek. Quickly, he got up, leaving Shiro stunned and flustered on the ground. No one said a word for what felt like ages. Then Shiro got up and did the only reasonable thing to break this new tension: Grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it in the back of Lance’s jacket.

The curses directed at him had never sounded sweeter.

* * *

Another night. 

A good night. 

Shiro woke up in the middle of it but not because he had a bad dream, no, but because the bed shook lightly. He opened one eye. 

The griffin. 

It lay down next to him, its snout pressing against Shiro’s chest, its wings - or what remained of them - spread out across his body. Shiro snuggled into the soft fur on its head, burying his lips in it.

He dozed off, dreaming things he couldn’t remember but that meant it wasn’t a nightmare and he was just grateful for that.

It was early morning when he woke up again, one foot still in the dream world, barely conscious. The sun hadn’t come up over the horizon yet, the interior of the cabin painted greyish. Go back to sleep, Shiro thought.

He hugged Lance tighter, his back firmly pressed against Shiro’s front.

His fingers caressed the soft skin of Lance’s naked chest. A gentle kiss landed on his bare neck. A second kiss followed, a third.

Lance’s breath hitched and he stirred in Shiro’s embrace.

Suddenly, Shiro was wide awake.

Warm smooth skin beneath the tips of his fingers. 

Warm smooth skin pressing against his chest.

Warm smooth skin touching his lips.

He knew Lance was awake, too. 

Realization dawned on him that this was how they both have been spent countless nights before, only with Lance being turned into a griffin. Those times, the emotional intimacy of being close to each other had been the focus.

The emotional intimacy stayed but something else got added.

Shiro knew what to do.

To withdraw from his hold, to give Lance space. 

_‘Don’t touch me!’_

Slowly, he pulled his hands back from his chest but not without giving him one last chaste kiss on the neck, hoping it transmitted that moving away was a sign of affection, not rejection.

His lips hadn’t even left his skin when he felt Lance’s hands on his. 

_Stay,_ the firm pressure begged, _please stay._

So Shiro stayed. 

Lance intertwined their fingers and then, very slowly, tilted his head, baring his neck. Shiro didn’t have to think twice about this invitation: he planted another kiss on his soft skin, then another and another until he kept caressing his neck without removing his lips, inhaling the pleasant scent of the person he adored so much.

Heat pooled in his body, making its way south, and by the sound of Lance’s breath, he was in a similar condition. Shiro’s fingers entangled from Lance’s hold and ran gently across his chest and stomach, making Lance squirm under his touch and rocking back against Shiro.

The constant movement did things to him but this wasn’t about Shiro. He wanted to make Lance feel good, showing him by the way he treated him how perfect he was, no matter what he thought about himself. 

“Takashi,” Lance breathed, voice heavy with desire. He reached for Shiro’s hand on his chest and grabbed it impatiently. Inch by inch, he led it down on him, giving Shiro plenty of time to stop or withdraw.

But he didn’t. 

* * *

A few minutes later, it all went to hell.

Shiro nuzzled his nose against the back of Lance’s head, feeling oddly relieved on an emotional level. He wished for Lance to turn around, to finally kiss him but he was still bathing in the bliss, pushing his back affectionately against Shiro who went back to hugging him - despite the mess.

That was when Shiro kissed a strip down his neck until he reached the skin between Lance's shoulder blades. He saw the hurt skin, the big scar, but he kissed it only gentler.

A mistake.

“Don’t-- don’t touch me.”

Immediately, Shiro withdrew his hands and scooted back. “Okay!”

Lance scrambled out of bed, grabbing the sheet to hurl it around his body.

“Don’t-- Just.. never…” Lance stammered, breathing heavily and walking towards the couch. 

Shiro gave him a moment before he followed, a shirt hastily thrown on so he won’t be solely in his boxers. “I won’t touch you,” he swore as he approached Lance who’d curled into a ball on the couch. 

For a moment, neither of them talked. Shiro reignited the fire in the fireplace, giving Lance some time to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said after the flames filled the place with warmth. He kneeled next to the fireplace, a safe distance to Lance who blankly stared at him. “I misunderstood. I should’ve explicitly asked if you’re comfortable--”

“No.” Weakly, Lance shook his head. “It’s not that. I forgot, you made me forget. And then I thought I was-- I thought I could bear it but--”

“Bear?” Shiro stopped him, feeling sick in his stomach. “You felt as if you had to _endure_ it? My-- my touch? Lance, I’m… quite in shock. I never wanted to give you the impression you owe me anything, least of all any physical, uh, payment.”

“Don’t you understand it?” Lance snapped. “It’s not you, it’s me! I can’t bear _myself_! And then you-- you touch me so-- affectionate and I-- I can’t bear that. Don’t deserve that.”

“I don’t understand, Lance. When you shapeshift into a griffin, we-- we are close together all the time. Please help me understand.”

Lance pressed his lips together.

“As a griffin, at least I don’t hide anything.”

“I don’t--”

“If I tell you, I will gross you out and I will disgust you just like everyone else.”

“I doubt that.”

“Well, here’s the disgusting truth." Lance sat up straight. "I’m not a shapeshifter, never was." 

Shiro waited with bated breath. He had figured that something didn't add up but of all things, he hadn't expected the following reveal.

“I _am_ half-griffin.”

“Half-griffin?" Shiro gasped. "But… how?”

How could _anyone_ be half an animal? 

“I’m not a shapeshifter. I never decided to learn how to shift into a certain animal. But my father was one, a shapeshifter. It said so in leftover pieces of a letter that came with me.” His voice was monotone, detached from the truth he spilled, his own so-called ugly truth. “My mother was a griffin. An animal. Do the equation and you have your answer. I’m a bastard. An abomination. Somehow came to life with the help of dark magic. They say I was born human.” He shook his head in disgust. “Everyone knew about me, there was no way of hiding it. I changed my shape a lot when I was young, until I went to school. Then I learned how to suppress it.” Lance shuddered and huddled deeper into the thin sheet. “A human baby between griffins. Can you even imagine… my mother…” 

“Okay,” Shiro said cautiously.

“Okay?” Lance echoed. “Okay?? Don’t you get it? Everyone at home understood it pretty clearly and never let me forget it. My father banged an animal! Maybe raped her! I don’t even know! I’m a bastard, I am disgusting! Maybe you should just kill me.”

Immediately, Lance’s hand snapped up to cover his mouth, shocked by the words he had directed at him.

Shiro felt nothing and everything.

Wordlessly, he stood up and walked towards the door but then turned around, frozen in the middle of the room, just staring at Lance. Only his slightly opened mouth indicated that he had heard the words. His mind was blank but it was not. He wanted to run but he didn’t want to. Everything was screaming at him but he couldn’t hear a thing.

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispered. He wrapped the sheet tight around his body and followed Shiro. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

Shiro put out one hand, palm directed at Lance. A sign to stop.

Lance nodded hastily, wiping away a tear from his cheek as he pointedly pressed his lips together, looking small and ashamed. 

Inside Shiro, feelings slowly began to get meanings again. It hurt him to see Lance like that. It hurt him to hear Lance had a death wish. It hurt him that he had connected death with Shiro. 

He put his hand down, exhaustion taking over as he walked to the kitchenette. 

A handful of tears escaped his eyes but he turned around anyway, looking at Lance who hadn’t moved a bit.

“Tea?”

Lance nodded again, more tears running down his cheeks. “Yes, please.”

* * *

In the time it took to prepare the tea, Lance had cleaned himself and slipped into one of Shiro’s hoodies. They decided to sit at the desk, eye to eye without accidentally touching the other. Things were too intense at the moment.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Is that what happened to your back? Your wings? Did they hurt you?”

Lance’s grip on the cup tightened. He shook his head.

“That was me.”

“You--”

“I tried to burn them off.”

At the horror in Shiro’s eyes, he stated just what the other was thinking. “I did a good job, I know. I can’t fly anymore. Never liked that anyway." Lance offered a weak smile. "Always crashed into trees.”

They talked all night.

“This doesn’t sound as if it’s the entire story,” Shiro said cautiously when Lance referred to how he came into being. “I think there's more to it than you were made to believe.”

“There’s no chance I will ever find out what happened. It’s been 22 years. My parents cast me out, maybe died during the war. It’s time for me to go up north, find the witch and end it all.” His eyes widened at the implication. “I mean, me being a griffin.”

“I understand.”

Shiro leaned forward.

“I know your wounds are healed. But you can’t go up north, not at this time of the year. Not even as a griffin. It would be suicide. Don’t,” Shiro warned him, ”even think about it.”

“Do you know where we might find the witch?”

“I don’t,” Shiro said. “But I know someone who might know.”

“Who?”

“Allura.”

Allura had a connection to magic even though she never used it except for becoming a shapeshifter. But he knew that the sanctuary wasn’t led only by her and Lotor. There were others up north and they might have a lead.

“Okay…”

“The passage up north won’t be clear until the ice has melted and the water is gone. We’ll have to wait until early Spring.”

“We?”

“You can’t go back south at this time of year and then hike back up. I know these woods better than anyone. I will accompany you up north.”

Lance was silent for a moment. “You let me stay here? You don't hate me?”

“Yes, of course you can stay here.” He leaned across the table, not touching Lance's hands but making it clear enough that he wanted to. "I don't hate you. You don't gross me out, never did and never will." He smiled at him. "This doesn't change anything about... what you mean to me. You're the best thing that happened to me. Every day I can spend with you is like a gift."

Lance chuckled and wiped away a last tear.

Then he took Shiro's hand.

* * *

Shiro never had a major problem with being scooped up in his cabin during the harsh winter days. Lance, though, did. 

As a human, Lance was slender and smaller than Shiro but he craved more space. Maybe it was connected to his larger size as a griffin, so his unconsciousness turned the lack of space into restlessness, an internal fear of getting trapped somewhere. 

When the daylight hours grew longer and the snow began to melt, Lance insisted on leaving the cabin every morning and evening before dinner time to take a long walk. It didn't matter that they had to work outside anyway, collecting firewood, feeding the deers, checking some shelters, looking out for hurt animals. That didn't count, so Lance said, and dragged Shiro through the slowly melting winter wonderland. 

Shiro was in love with Lance but never said a word.

Their mutual feelings for each other were the worst kept secret between the two but Shiro was afraid to lose him if they moved too fast. There was plenty of time after all and what they had at this point was precious.

* * *

Some nights were especially hard. When Lance didn’t manage to calm Shiro down, he shifted into his griffin-self, tutting calmly until Shiro fell back asleep. 

Shiro told him not to, afraid it might upset Lance to shift into something he despised to his very core.

Lance didn’t care.

They cuddled until the morning came. 

And sometimes, only sometimes, Lance would be in human form in the morning but still lying next to him, either in his arms or holding Shiro tightly himself.

They both knew that Lance wouldn’t always be there, not as a griffin anyway, but it helped.

* * *

Winter went by, bidding its goodbye and soon, the first flowers started blooming. Lance became more restless than usual and they planned their trip up north for the following week.

The day before their departure, Shiro woke up early. His arms were wrapped around Lance whose head rested on Shiro’s chest, his soft hair tickling his chin. Shiro wished this moment to last forever.

But then he heard noises from outside, just in his front yard. Careful not to wake him up, he sneaked out of bed and looked outside the window. A smile spread on his face. Quickly, he got dressed and headed outside.

A few minutes later, Lance appeared in the doorframe, disheveled and confused, asking about Shiro’s whereabouts. 

“Move slowly,” Shiro said, sitting in the green grass in front of his house with deers surrounding him, including five fawns.

Lance didn’t say a word when he approached. 

“What are they doing here?”

“They do that every year,” Shiro explained, his eyes glowing from happiness and he felt giddy about the fawns jumping around closeby while the elder deer were browsing. “They show me their youngest so I can take care of them, too.”

“You’re part of their herd,” Lance said full of astonishment.

One of the fawns curiously nudged against Shiro’s foot, making him chuckle.

“I wouldn't go that far.”

“No, you are.” Gently, Lance touched Shiro’s chin and turned his head towards him. “You are part of their herd. They bring their newborn to you, they can barely walk, Shiro.” Lance’s intense blue eyes stared at him. “They trust you, deeply.”

“I-- no, they just… do that…”

“Shiro,” Lance repeated, a bit stubborn but in an adorable way, “look at them.” 

They both glance at the deers. A mother deer was busy nudging her fawn in Shiro’s direction until it bumped against his shin, lying in the grass to rest. The mother lied down next to him, eyes closed for a nap.

“That’s… “ He looked back at Lance, swallowing. “You think?”

Lance bit his lips not to laugh out loud. “No,” he said softly, “I know.” He pointed at himself. “I might not understand them but I feel it. Part animal, remember?”

“What do you mean?” Shiro breathed.

“There was a reason I let you carry me into your cabin last winter. And no, it wasn’t because I was hurt so badly. I could barely think like a human at this point. It was pure instinct. I trusted you. I still do.” 

He nodded towards the fawns.

“And they trust you, too. So much that they bring their newborns to you, not that you can protect them, well, maybe that, too, but that’s not the main reason.”

“Because-- because I belong to their herd?”

“You know what herd means, right?”

Shiro opened his mouth.

“It’s family. You’re their family.”

The deer herd stayed for half an hour, then moved on. Shiro spent the time crying on Lance's shoulder, trying to comprehend that he’d earned the trust of not only the deers he cared so deeply about but also of a half-griffin he loved with all his heart. 

Soon, the sun was high in the sky, shining on the two still resting on their backs in the grass, enjoying the warmth. 

“Shiro?”

“Yes?”

“I want to say something.” Lance rolled to the side, propping himself up on an elbow. Shiro looked at him, waiting. “I trust you with me and I know you accept me the way I am, my whole fucked-up half-griffin-being. And it fills my heart with something it had lacked before. Not to discredit my friends but… they didn’t understand me the way you do. That being said… I have to accept myself, too.” He took a deep breath. “That’s why I have to see the witch. I need this transition. I need this change.”

Shiro sat up. “I know. If that’s what you need and want, then you’ll get it.”

“But that means I won’t be able to comfort you at night,” Lance said slowly, also sitting up rather nervously.

He was referring to his griffin-self.

Shiro took his hands in his. “You already helped me healing, Lance, with or without changing your shape. If I can ever hope for your comfort, then you being the person you want to be is all I need.”

Lance smiled softly.

There were hidden promises in the way they talked. Promises of being together, of a future side by side.

“Let’s go packing,” Shiro said and Lance followed him eagerly, both not wanting to wait for said future any longer.


	4. Chapter 4

The hike up north was hard. There were rivers to cross, ridges to pass and oh so many fields to travel through. Came dusk, they ignited a fire, sitting in silence or talking about the things they had seen that day. Light talk only, and Shiro did everything in his power to lessen Lance's anxiety. What if Allura didn't know anything about a witch? What if the witch was dead already? They fell asleep arm in arm, only their sleeping bags separating them.

The landscape changed the higher up north they traveled. Less woods, more fields and hills. Thankfully, the snow had gone.

Almost two weeks later, they arrived.

There was a fence, just as Allura had said, and Lance laughed when he saw it.

"That's a piece of wood every hundred feet."

Definitely not here to keep the griffins in. A nearby sign told them the upcoming area was called the 'Juniberry Fields'. But nothing more indicated that humans had been up here.

The fields were gorgeous. Pink and purple flowers as far as the eye could see. In the distance, they spotted gigantic mountains, their tops covered with snow - the original home of the griffins. 

Lance was nervous.

“Tomorrow morning we’ll arrive,” Shiro said when they made rest one last time, an arm curled around Lance’s back as they stared into the fire in front of them. It had gotten colder again, so far up north. 

Constellations Shiro had never seen before shined above them when they lay down to sleep. He turned around to ask Lance about the stars but found Lance staring at him. Fondly and with full of love, as if Shiro had hung up said stars all by himself and only for him. Lance scooted closer, his nose touching Shiro's until their breath mingled, making them both dizzy.

They hadn't kissed yet. Shiro guessed it was too intimate for Lance, the shame of being partly griffin making it hard for him to allow certain touches. Nevertheless, it had almost happened quite often, only Lance had always withdrawn last minute, shooting Shiro a sheepish look. 

That night, Shiro expected nothing more. He was perfectly content to just hold him and look at him.

But then Lance crawled out of his sleeping bag and into Shiro's, ignoring Shiro's protest about the lack of space. Ultimately, they both fit in it, but Shiro rolled Lance on his back, afraid he might accidentally caress his back otherwise - this was still a no-no zone for affection.

"I love you," Lance whispered and wrapped his arms around Shiro's neck, pulling him closer. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too, La--"

Shiro's declaration was muffled by Lance's lips capturing his but that wasn't too tragic. He would say it again. Over and over.

Next morning, Shiro noticed the sleeping bag was ripped open at one side.

"Did you shift last night when I was asleep?"

Lance wiggled his eyebrows. "Nope, that was all you," he said, kissing Shiro's red cheeks.

* * *

They crossed the Juniberry Fields next morning and arrived safe and sound in front of what Shiro knew was Allura's and Lotor's home during winter and spring, sometimes even summer. Their cabin was large with several rooms and even a second floor. A few other cabins stood close by, inhabited or not, Shiro wasn't sure. Bushes and fields dominated the land.

In the close distance, there was a mountain: small in relation to the large mountain range at the horizon, but still majestic. A wide fenced field with green grass spread out between it and the cabin, almost like some sort of neutral zone, not to be touched without reason.

To Lance's surprise, the welcome was warm and almost exuberant. After having lunch together, Allura and Lotor led them around their gardens and fields, explaining everything they wanted to know. It touched Shiro deeply to see how his friends dealt with their past. Just like him, they were forced to do gruesome things when they were little. Lance asked questions, too, albeit reserved yet not unfriendly. 

No one breached the subject of why they traveled up here. 

Shiro knew Lance needed to gather some courage, not only to reveal his descent but also to ask the people for help who'd been part of the griffin's extermination, no matter that he now was able to understand the pressure they had to endure. Nevertheless, it was hard for Shiro to grasp why Lance was able to hate his griffin side so fiercely but at the same time defended it with his whole heart. 

Some things were hard to make sense of and Shiro was sure if he asked Lance about it, he wouldn’t be able to come up with a satisfying answer either. Not without combing through his life, his mind, his thoughts and sorting everything. But that wasn't something Lance wanted, he was sure of it. Lance was ready for the future, a future he had shaped on his own.

Despite being outside for hours, they didn’t see any griffins. Most of them, so Allura explained, lived beyond the small mountain that rose up on the other side of the field. Humans were not allowed to go there, they made sure of it. If new griffins found their way here, they waited on the field for the elder ones to greet them, leading them into their new home. If for some reason a griffin needed a human - especially when one got hurt badly - they would also meet on this territory. Otherwise, no one stepped on it.

They had raspberry cake that afternoon when Lance told them.

“I’m a half-griffin,” he said without preamble. 

Empathy welcomed him, pieces fell into place for everyone and soon he revealed the nature of his journey, answering questions willingly.

“There was a witch, yes, but she died fifteen years ago.”

It took everything in Lance not to break down. Shiro could only hold him in his arms as Allura left, excusing herself to check on something.

“There might be a solution,” Lotor had said. “Don’t give up hope yet.”

And hope was with what Allura returned. The witch’s son.

* * *

“When I was young and my mother still alive, she told me of a man who visited her many years ago. It must have been over 30 years by now. He said he was a shapeshifter who fell in love with a griffin, begging her to turn him into a real griffin. My mother was wary of his confession and told him it wasn’t possible. Shapeshifting is as close as it gets. No one can turn into an animal. However, they talked multiple times. She even got to know the griffin he adored so much. The last time she spoke to him with words, with him being a human, he told her that he will spend the rest of his life shapeshifted into a griffin. So he did. Over the next few years, they met from time to time, my mother and the two of them. She helped them hiding from Zarkon."

Everyone hung on Keith's lips, the son of Krolia, the once famous witch of the north. He lived in one of the cabins nearby where he'd been raised and taught how to use the magic he'd been born with. A long time ago, this area had been the settlement of a magic rebel group called The Blade who'd steadily fought against Zarkon's reign. Keith had never abandoned this place, not even when one day he'd been the only one left, only a teenager back then. After Zarkon's fall, Allura and Lotor came across the land on their way to go into exile.

Keith had allowed them to stay. Together, they began taking care of the griffins.

"About 22 years ago," Keith continued, "your father and mother visited her again, one last time. Your father's mind was so far gone, he almost passed for a real griffin. He wasn't able to shape back and could barely understand other humans. My mother realized he had succeeded in doing something that no one else had done before: he thought like a griffin, he could communicate with them and the most important thing: he loved like them. You see, your mother was pregnant. It shouldn't have been possible but it happened. Love and life found away. But your parents knew something wasn't right with their unborn child. You were alive but... not healthy. The remains of your father’s human memories told him to search for the witch from long ago. Luckily, they found her in time. There was a spell cast the night you were born."

“Because I was born a human?”

“No," Keith said gently. "No, you were born a griffin, Lance.”

Lance gasped. Shiro took his hand in his, holding it firmly. Allura covered her mouth in shock and even Lotor inhaled sharply. 

“But I thought that was the reason-- the reason they sent me away... because I was-- human and they couldn't--” Tears pooled in his eyes and his look fell on everyone around the table, begging for an explanation, asking for help to make him understand why he'd been left behind, why he had to take on this life full of pain and torture when he'd been just the same as his parents. A griffin from birth.

Keith leaned forward, a calmness radiating from him that Shiro was sure had a magical background. The tension vanished like a fog being blown away by a fresh wind.

“Your parents wanted you to decide which form you want to spend your life in," Keith explained. "They didn’t want to take this decision away from you. As far as I understood my mother’s notes, a friend called Regris had been given the task to bring you to the closest village, to a certain family who would raise you with the truth in mind. You would have been able to be raised by both a human foster family and your real parents, teaching you how to control your two shapes. Sadly, Regris got killed by Zarkon’s henchmen who destroyed the village and killed your designated foster parents and many more. My mother and your real parents believed you dead." He smiled sadly. "Guess they were wrong.”

Lance swallowed. "People found me," he said quietly. "They didn't know what was wrong with me but they figured it out quickly. That I'm a half-breed, come to life from violence and dark magic. Unnatural and... filthy." Lance shuddered. "Coran took me in, raised me. Not like his real son, I doubt anyone was able to do this, but he was kind to me. Turned a blind eye to the dirty part."

“You’re a child of love, Lance," Shiro said, squeezing his hand. "One of the deepest loves, expanding species, if you will. Even if you weren’t, it wouldn’t stain your worth. You’re worth so much.”

“I came into existence after violence done to my mother,” Keith said. “We don’t have a choice in the circumstances of our birth. And often not even in our upbringing.” He glanced towards Allura who took his hand under the table. "But sometimes, we do have a choice when it comes to our future." His eyes took in Lance, scanning him, almost. "There might a way to reverse a part of the spell. To turn you fully human, if that's what you want."

"I want it," Lance said firmly. 

Keith and Lance spent the rest of the evening going over the details of the spell. Shiro helped Allura and Lotor with some meaningless tasks, glad to have something to keep his mind off things.

He was worried.

* * *

Lance couldn’t fall asleep. He trashed from one side to the other, eyes glowing pink whenever Shiro tried to soothe him or even dared to hold him, ready to go feral any second.

For the first time, Shiro was frightened. Not because Lance could hurt him - which he could, most certainly - but because he realized that despite having journeyed on Lance’s side for months now, in a way, he hadn’t fully grasped the extent of his torment. And probably never would. All he knew about it was from Lance’s telling and the little glimpses he saw from time to time.

He didn’t know how Lance felt. There was the shame he got bathed in ever since he was born, clinging to his soul like the only constant in his life. The loss of control, the fear to hurt someone but also of being hurt. No safety, no job. Being detached from his family but also connected, in the cruelest way.

Shiro doubted that the scar on his back was the biggest one. It was only the one that was visible.

But then he allowed Shiro to hold him and they fell asleep until it was Shiro who woke up bathed in sweat, only barely able to stop himself from screaming. 

A wet snout nuzzled against his neck.

“Lance?” Shiro croaked in the darkness. The noise of spreading wings followed the sound of the all so familiar tutting. "We're gonna be okay," he mumbled, embracing the griffin, "you and me both."

* * *

The next morning came with a surprise none of them had expected.

Lance had been restless but ultimately excited to finally go through with the transformation. His mood was good when he and Shiro entered the kitchen, surprising Allura and Keith having an intimate moment. After a brief kiss and Keith failing to hide touching Allura's belly in the gentlest way, he excused himself, flashing Lance a sympathetic smile on his way out.

Shiro couldn't help but grin at this little revelation. Allura bit her lip, shrugging sheepishly and glowing with happiness. 

"Him, really?" Lance asked but with a wide smile, teasing even. "With that hair?"

Allura chuckled. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Congratulations," Shiro said, pulling Lance closer to him. Without being aware of his actions, he wrapped his arms around him and leaned his chin on his shoulder. Only when Lance turned his head around, raising a teasing eyebrow at him for being manhandled like that, he flushed. "Oh."

He loved Lance, he wanted the entire world to know that they belong together.

Lance leaned back and put one arm around Shiro's neck, drawing him in for a long kiss until Allura cleared her throat.

"This isn't a competition," she chuckled, making Shiro sputtering denials until Lance interrupted him.

"Yes, it is," Lance declared with a wicked grin. "Keith will have to learn that, too."

"Speaking of Keith," Allura continued, a more somber expression on her face, "last night, he wanted to check on something before he does the spell."

Lance frowned. "Okay," he said.

"I spare you the details." She took a deep breath. "Outside on the field... there's someone who wants to meet you, Lance."

* * *

Keith and Lotor already waited by the fence, a strange tension in the air.

That's when Shiro noticed.

In the middle of the field, there were two grown griffins.

Lance almost collapsed in his arms.

The larger griffin took a few steps forward, almost in worry.

“That’s… my father," Lance chocked out, no doubt in his voice. A tear ran down his cheek and Shiro was sure it wouldn't be the last one. Slowly, he led him to the fence where Lance took hold of the wood to steady himself. Everyone present took a few moments to take in the creatures in front of them.

The griffin - Lance's father - was larger than his son but his feathers had the same color as Lance’s in griffin form. Shiro wondered how he had looked like a human, if he also had brown hair like Lance.

Further away, another creature waited, too shy to approach the humans but eyeing them with radiant blue eyes.

“Mom?”

Shiro’s heart broke at the sound of Lance’s voice, a soft whimper, child-like and full of yearning and fear of rejection at the same time. He took a few unsteady and unconfident steps towards them but stopped, turning around to the humans.

"I don't know--" he mumbled, insecure and small.

"They offer you to follow them," Keith explained.

“You can go with them,” Allura said quietly, "if you want."

Despite being overwhelmed with the situation, Lance nodded firmly. He walked back to hug Shiro wordlessly, his mind most certainly spinning too much to speak.

“Take all the time you need,” Shiro told him and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be here, waiting for you. Days, weeks, as long as you need.”

His eyes followed Lance’s human shape, wandering up a steep hill between his father on his left side and his mother on the right.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Allura reassured him. “The grounds they settled in are beyond the first mountain. They will probably lead him there.”

  
  


In the end, Shiro had to wait three days for Lance to return.

* * *

He was sitting outside the cabin on a bench, talking to Allura’s friend Keith who in the meantime had introduced himself properly, not as a witch but as some sort of caretaker of the lands - he said his inherited magic wasn't what defined him but his actions only. 

At the entrance to the mountain, three figures appeared. Three griffins.

They said goodbye, at least to Lance’s griffin form. The sound of their tutting echoed across the lands. Their wings spread wide, embracing their son. Shiro held his breath. Their wings were magnificent but even from the distance, he could see that they were clipped. His mother had probably been a prisoner of the war, his father being a shapeshifter never had the ability to form real wings. Lance hugged them back, his stubbled battered wings gently touching his mother and father.

Without looking back, Lance ran across the wide field towards Shiro and the others. 

Shiro had never seen him run as a griffin. He was beautiful, no matter if griffin or human. His eyes were a warm blue, his horn and some parts of his feathers shining turquoise in the sunlight. With his wings still spread and despite being almost gone, Shiro got an idea of how big they had been.

"You were gone long," Shiro said after he had wrapped a warm blanket around Lance's body. It wasn't meant as a reproach but full of curiosity about the events of the last few days.

"I told them it was okay," Lance explained. They took a seat on a nearby bench, being left alone by the other humans. "Had to make them understand that I don't blame them for anything that happened."

"You don't?"

"I did for a long time," he admitted. "But not anymore. They didn't know what to do. Sending me away might have been a mistake. But... they were helpless. Wanting what was best for me. My life didn't turn out to be brilliant but... I took back control. Or am about to." He smiled. "I think they offered me to stay with them. And help me."

“They said that?” 

“Not with words but in the way they treated me, I'm sure about it," Lance elaborated. "But... otherwise I didn't understand them. I tried to explain what I was about to do, to turn fully human. I felt something like a response from my father but… I was too human to understand either of them." He sighed and buried his face in Shiro's chest. "Too human to be a griffin and too much of a griffin to be a human. It's like I don't belong anywhere.”

“Your place is wherever you are, Lance. It can be somewhere new. Or your place can be with Hunk and Pidge down south. I’m sure you would also find your place here with Allura and Lotor. And there’s a cabin in the woods surrounded by deer that is and always will be your place.” He took Lance’s face in his hands, gently holding the love of his life as he pressed a kiss against his nose.

“That’s already your place, silly,” Lance chuckled wetly.

“Nah,” Shiro said airly, “my place is wherever you are. If you’ll have me.”

Lance tilted his head, faking an annoyed expression. "If he'll have me, he says" he mocked him but the smile didn't leave his eyes. "And you said I was dramatic."

Shiro shut him up with peck on his lips.

"You think the deers let me join your herd as a stinky human?" Lance asked.

Shiro laughed. "I'm sure of it."

"Well then..." He grinned at Shiro. "I guess I'll see you in a bit."

“Are you ready?”

Lance nodded, standing alone behind the fence with his parents in the faraway background.

“Does he have to be a griffin for the… spell?” Shiro briefly averted his eyes from his transformed boyfriend and shot Keith a questioning look.

“Yes,” Keith confirmed absentmindedly as he reread something on the parchment paper in his hands. “He’s gonna lose his griffin side. Only this side of him can make the decision. The spell won't allow it any other way.”

Lance stepped forward and rubbed his head against Shiro. Even now he tried to soothe him. Gently, Shiro petted the spot behind his ears, Lance's favorite one.

A bittersweet goodbye.

“You'll be okay,” he said although his heart ached to loose one side of Lance. Maybe it was a selfish thought but he allowed it. Just because he felt that way didn't mean he didn't support Lance with his entire soul. Griffin or no griffin, he would always love him. Another nudge, another comforting purr. "I'll be okay, too," Shiro assured him, feeling lighter because he knew it was the truth.

Keith addressed Lance. "We talked about it before. You need some space so walk back on the field."

Lance obliged and every pair of eyes was on him and Keith.

“My mother was there when you were born,” Keith said. “You barely survived because of the… unique circumstances. But she was a witch, just like me, and she was able to help. What I will do now is to reverse a part of her magic. You’re lucky you found me because only a relative can do this.”

Shiro stopped him. “You're sure it won't kill him?”

“Yes," Keith answered. "The part of him that was griffin will leave and the empty space, if you will, will be filled, maybe drawing from his human side. You have to know that a magic spell is always a trade. No energy is ever lost. In this certain case, we won't know the details of how it will work, at least not at this point. Going through my mother's spell would require months of studying it but I doubt you want to wait that long. However, it will work, that I can promise you.” He looked at Lance, probing. “Once again: This is irreversible.”

Lance nodded and tutted, sounding impatient. Oh, Shiro would miss the noises.

“Okay.”

Shiro had witnessed magic a handful of times. A witch called Honerva had accompanied Zarkon on his way to power and destruction. Her magic had always been dark, literally and figuratively. An overwhelming feeling of destruction had come with it.

Keith's magic had none of it.

Reciting words no one understood and drawing signs in the air in the most flourished way, the magic began expanding around him. It was a light kind of magic. No traces of darkness there, much to Shiro's relief. Also Lance looked astonished - if this was indeed a similar spell to what had been directed at him during his birth, then it had been the same hopeful, life-affirming and bright magic. Not to suppress or direct in a forceful way but more like an idea offered by the one who spoke it. 

And Lance accepted. 

For a moment, Shiro thought nothing was going to happen. But then a light flashed, surrounding Lance. 

And then he saw Lance. Truly saw Lance how he would look like in his pure griffin form.

A majestic griffin with strong turquoise horns, the blackish wings spreading across the field, each wing wider than one body length. His feathers shined and sparkled in the light, looking like diamonds on him. With his head proudly raised, he flapped his wings a few times and Shiro could swear he felt the strong wind on his cheeks. It was mesmerizing. 

Never in his entire life had Shiro seen such a beautiful griffin.

The light got stronger, blinding everyone, and suddenly, it was gone.

Out.

A little figure slumped down into the grass. Shiro was by his side in an instant, throwing the blanket over his shoulders. He was cold and shuddering and for a moment, Shiro was so worried, he forgot to breathe. He was about to call Keith to him, when Lance weakly opened his blue eyes opened, a hopeful smile on his lips as he asked the most important question of his life.

“Did it work?”

Shiro pressed him against his chest, throwing a look at Keith who nodded in response.

“Yes,” he said, holding him tightly, “it worked.”

"I'm human," Lance said full of wonder. "I'm... human." His facial expression changed. With the relief came catharsis came tears. He chocked and pressed a hand on his mouth. "I'm human," he sobbed, crying in Shiro's arms, his body shaking from emotions. "I'm-- I'm human. I am... I'm human. I'm-- I---"

"You're human," Shiro repeated for him. "You did it, Lance. You're human."

Minutes passed and no one moved, not the humans on the other side of the fence and not the griffins. They gave Lance the necessary time to collect himself again and then Shiro led him inside to get properly dressed. 

In silence, Lance put on a pair of trousers and a well-fitting sweater in a warm yellow. A surprise from Shiro who had secretly knitted it to give Lance something new, something different to the blue and black sweaters he used to borrow from him.

Something for a new beginning.

When they walked back outside, the others smiled at Lance. Allura and Lotor were close to tears, holding each other. 

"You feeling good?" Keith asked, the only one who at least pretended to not be emotionally touched by this situation despite the soft look in his eyes and his shaky voice betraying him.

Lance nodded. "Thank you, Keith," he said. "Thank you so much." He turned to Allura and Lotor. "And... thank you as well."

Allura nodded quickly, the movement making her tears drop on the ground.

"You're welcome," Lotor croaked, his voice breaking a bit.

Shiro knew from his own experience how much it meant. Maybe they three would never have their redemption but every little thing they could do in making up for their past was worth it.

"They’re still your parents." Keith pointed to the griffins on the field. "That is if you want them to be.”

In the far distance, Lance's mother was ready to run towards her son, only being held back by the father. 

"They'll always be my parents," Lance breathed and walked back on the field.

Keith and Shiro stayed with Allura and Lotor behind the fence. The field wasn't their place, especially not now.

The second Lance motioned his parents to come closer, his mother ran towards him. Her wings might have been clipped but that didn't stop her from taking off the ground every few steps, only a little but enough to make her faster. 

When she reached him, Lance hugged her tightly, whispering things she probably wouldn't understand but what Shiro had learned was that love transcended everything. It didn't take long for Lance's father to arrive, also nudging him gently. They were still his parents and he was still their firstborn, a child they longed to have for years. Their love for him would never change.

"Takashi, come here."

Lance waved him closer, his other arm scratching his mother's ears.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Shiro said hesitantly. There was no chance the griffins didn't know who he was. 

Lance tsked and to everyone's amusement, his parents tutted just the same.

"I think they insist on meeting their son's boyfriend," Lotor teased him.

Reluctantly, he agreed. Lance's eyes shined brightly when Shiro appeared a few steps behind him, careful not to accidentally touch one of the griffins.

“Mom, Dad, this is Takashi," Lance said happily, unbothered that he introduced them to the once famous griffin killer. "You know, the one I told you about."

Shiro swallowed. He knew communication with words wasn't possible but mark him down as scared, especially when the female griffin stepped forward. She eyed Allura and Lotor, then Keith but stopped in front of Shiro.

"Hello," Shiro said dumbly and gave a little wave. The griffin waited, staring at him wide suspicious eyes. 

"Mom, he's... I love him. You know that."

Slowly, Shiro kneeled down. The height difference felt wrong and inappropriate. It was the right move, he soon noticed, because the mother stepped closer. A moment later, Lance's father followed. Shiro didn't dare to move or even to breathe. 

Lance's mother was the first to tutt, slowly, contemplating, then the father echoed her. It wasn't a rejection but they were still wary. 

"They will warm up to you," Lance promised, ruffling their feathers until his father nudged him away, making a dismissive sound. Lance laughed. "Okay, sorry, Dad."

The griffins left, at least for now. There was more to discuss on both sides. And plans to make, for a new future.

Shiro and Lance stayed for the length of the summer. Allura allowed them to live in one of the empty cabins, not only for this summer, but if they ever wanted to move up here, this one would be theirs. Lance was over the moon. The one thing that became crystal clear from day one was the following: Lance would always come back to his parents. He loved them and they loved him. For the first time in his life, Lance learned to accept himself.

It didn't happen overnight but it was a steady progress. One time, Shiro asked Lance if he regretted the spell. If he'd rather stayed half-griffin and learned how to control it with his parent's help. No, Lance had answered, not an ounce of doubt in his voice. He needed to be human. That was what he chose. His parents had always supported him, he knew that now, trying to give him the perfect home to make that choice one day - if Zarkon's reign hadn't disrupted their plan. He dismissed Shiro's unasked question of whether he had felt pressured in becoming human due to his violent upbringing.

"I never connected with being a griffin," he had explained. "Only when I met you. You treated me gently as a griffin and needed me - which ultimately made me understand that part of me better. And maybe I even learned to appreciate it. But truly connected and being in touch with that side? No, never." A warm smiled had spread on his face. "You made me see the good things. And I'm thankful for that." For a moment, Lance had been quiet. "The funny thing is: the others in my village accepted me. They knew what I was and hated me but they accepted me in a twisted way. I never accepted myself though. That was the difference. To become human was something I did for myself and myself only."

Shiro had hugged him, feeling proud that he was part of Lance's journey of becoming the person he had meant to be.

* * *

Early summer, one year later.

* * *

They had arrived in the late evening this time, almost falling asleep while walking.

Thankfully, Lotor had prepared everything for their arrival. He provided the group with snacks to get them sated until the big breakfast the next morning. Shiro and Lance went into their usual cabin, Hunk and Pidge - who excitedly had agreed to accompany them this summer - were lead in another one. 

The deer in the forest were able to take care of each other during summer. Shiro only wanted to stay with them during late fall and winter. Lance happily agreed. As much as he loved his parents, he was grown-up and wanted to be on his own. He had even found a place to work: every few days, he would walk the two hours to the closest village and work as a carpenter. 

And to his biggest joy, Hunk and Pidge decided to finally leave the town that was so deeply connected to an ugly past. Shiro laughed when Lance told him he had convinced them to move in exactly said village, even bringing Coran with them.

Shiro liked Lance's friends and his stepfather. They visited each other every few weeks.

The breakfast was even better than Lotor had promised. They sat outside at a makeshift table, bathing in the warm sun, Keith and Allura glowing with pride and happiness about her little daughter who took a nap in his father's arms, and chatted away.

"Coran asked if he can come, too, one day," Pidge said and take a bite of her pancake.

"Oh, that's not my decision," Allura said, throwing a look at Lance who met her with a smile.

"I'd love you to meet Coran," he said giddily, "also he needs to meet my parents."

"Then it's settled," Lotor said cheerily, "he's welcome next year."

"Can I visit again, too?" Hunk asked. 

"You can all come here as often as you want to," Keith said.

They all talked for hours.

Shiro's heart was light at the sight of the people around him but he didn't talk much.

"Are you okay?" Lance asked one time and kissed the knuckles of his hand.

"Never been better," he said and kissed him on top of his head.

When Lance said the deer considered him family, he had cried.

Now he sat here amidst people he cared about, realizing that just as Lance, he had found another family. A human one.

He tried not to cry.

At least not too hard.

Lance's parents arrived two days later.

Shiro, Lance and Keith had just returned from a hike when Lance spotted them and ran all the way down to greet them on the field. Shiro chuckled at the sight. The older griffins had been lying lazily in the sun when suddenly, their young one came sprinting towards them, ruffling their feathers and yelling with happiness.

Keith frowned at the sight of it.

"Is he always this loud?"

Shiro laughed. "Give it a few years and that's how Melina will greet you."

By the mentioning of his daughter, Keith smiled fondly.

"Okay, then I guess it's not so bad."

They watched the scene while walking towards the fence. Lance's father appeared to be extra excited to see his son, almost mirroring Lance's emotions and not wanting to let him go.

"Daaaad, I need some water, hang ooonn," Lance giggled.

"Lance?" Keith called when they were in close distance. "I need to talk to you about something." 

"Something bad?"

"No, just-- facts."

"Oki." Suddenly, Lance's father couldn't possibly be quicker to nudge his son towards Keith, almost as if he could sense what the talk was about. 

Keith led them towards the cabin but stopped in front of the already opened door, probably changing his mind about the setting.

"Okay, so--"

Out of habit, Lance wanted to close the door but Keith stopped him.

"Oh, we have an open-door policy during the daytime," he explained. 

"Uh, okay?"

"It's about the spell. Remember what I said last year?" Keith began. "Magic always involves a trade and energy can never be destroyed. I thought about it thoroughly, retraced the spell to its roots." He took a deep breath and glanced at the griffins on the field. "I know now what kind of trade had been made. There was a connection between you and your father the moment I said the spell. You see, he was never fully griffin. There was always a part of him human, no matter how small. But last year, the magic searched for something to trade."

"I don't understand."

"Lance," Keith said, his eyes calm and friendly, "your father offered you his remaining human part, and you gave him your griffin part instead. That was the trade."

Lance breathed heavily, eyes wide open as he stared at his father from the distance.

"You fulfilled his wish and he fulfilled yours."

"He's-- he's fully griffin now?" 

"Yes, just like you are fully human."

Lance hugged his parents for the next ten minutes, crying with happiness into their feathers. Only when his mother got restless again when Allura approached, he slowly got up. At first, Shiro thought the griffin didn't trust the woman but there was something in the air between them, a weird connection, very new.

"Lance?" Allura called. "We want you to meet someone."

Curiously, Shiro followed Lance into the house. "I know this has been an emotional day already but there's one more thing, only one more, I promise." Allura pointed towards the open door of her baby room, leaving Lance confused.

"But I already met your--"

A tutting sound.

High-pitched, almost squeaky.

Immediately, Lance stumbled into the room and fell on his knees. Shiro stayed in the doorway but saw everything.

Melina was lying on her back on a soft pillow on the ground, happily grabbing for--

Shiro couldn't believe his eyes.

"Lance, this is your sister."

A tiny griffin not much bigger than the human baby rested next to Melina, patiently allowing the human to pet her feathers with eyes closed. Only when Lance inhaled sharply and let out a shuttered breath, she opened her eyes. 

"Your parents come here often," Allura explained. "Your sister is very curious. I think she and Melina are good friends."

"Does she... have a name?" Shiro asked on Lance's behalf.

Allura smiled. "We don't know how Lance's parents would call her but Keith named her Rachel."

"Rachel," Lance repeated. By the calling of her name, the griffin blinked curiously at him. "I like it. Hey Rachel," he said softly. "I'm your big brother, Lance."

The griffin got up on her legs and stretched them lazily. Then, with insecure and wobbly steps, she made her way over to Lance. 

"You're so small, oh God," he chuckled and leaned down to press their foreheads together. For a second, Shiro was afraid that the griffin was about to break free, not wanting to be touched by a stranger. But the opposite happened: She crawled into Lance's lap, licking the spilling tears off his cheeks and began to tutt and purr.

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna carry you around, little missy, don't even think about it," Lance stated seriously and Shiro almost laughed out loud. 

Lance's resolution to not carry or smother his little sister held up for approximately ten seconds. After that, the two were inseparable.

* * *

This summer was the best summer in Shiro's life - so far. 

He went on hikes with Lance, Keith and Lotor, learned new recipes from Hunk and played weirdly intense card games with Pidge. Sometimes he and Allura would sit down and share stories of their past, the good and bad ones. It was good to finally allow himself to talk about it with someone else than his diary or Lance. She understood him, having been part of the cruel machinery like him.

On the morning of their departure, tears were shed.

But there was laughter, too, and promises to see each other soon again.

Pidge and Hunk waved Lance's parents and sister goodbye, beyond the fence as it was custom. 

Once again, Lance called Shiro to the field where he was busy cuddling his griffin family.

"They wanna say goodbye," he told him.

As before, Shiro went down on his knees, convinced that if he was lucky, he would get a pointed look that said 'if you harm our son, we will hunt you down'. 

But to his surprise, this time was different. Rachel was the first one to tell him goodbye, which she did by running towards him and forgetting how to stop. 

"Hey, be careful," Shiro chuckled when the tiny griffin bumped into him. Carefully, he helped her up. Her little wings fluttered in excitement and the endearingly high tutting made Shiro's heart sing. The next thing he felt was something on his back. Something soft but strong. Slowly, he turned his head. Lance's mother stood beside him, one wing spread, gently touching Shiro.

On his other side, Lance's father appeared, displaying some impatience when he clapped one of his wings a few times on Shiro's back.

Shiro didn't know what to say, how to breathe, how to exist. He stared at Lance in front of him who wasn't able to stop grinning.

Shiro looked at both of his parents, hoping they would understand that their son was safe with him, that he would protect him and cherish him and support him in everything that was yet to come.

"They know."

Lance and Shiro turned around. Keith leaned against the fence, observing the heartfelt goodbye.

"Who knows what?" Lance asked.

"Nothing," he said but not without giving Shiro a subtle smile.

Lance huffed. "Witches are so weird."

Shiro didn't reply. He leaned towards the two elder griffins.

"Thank you," he whispered only for them to hear, "thank you for trusting me."

They tutted in response.

"Shiro? Why are you crying?"

Gently, he took his boyfriend’s face in his fands. “Because I’m happy.”

“I’m happy, too,” Lance whispered back and smiled into the kiss that followed.

**Author's Note:**

> I whined on Twitter about not being able to come up with a name for Kallura's child and my friend suggested X Æ A-12 and I FUCKING LOST IT LMAOOOOO :D
> 
> The fic's title is a sad nod to Germany's 2020 ESC song - I'm devastated it won't take place this _one_ time in _years_ where our song is a proper bop! Argh!


End file.
